


Your Life and Mine

by HOMRA



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Letters, M/M, Song Lyrics, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 10:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5087632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HOMRA/pseuds/HOMRA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fushimi's night off was supposed to be quiet and peaceful but when he spots a sullen looking Yata drinking alone he somehow winds up sitting at the bar with him, downing tequila as if it was his job as they talked of things he felt were better left unsaid. He hadn't expected for things between them to change but fate had other ideas...even if it was only for the night.</p><p>  <i>If it feels right</i><br/><i>Then everything's fine</i><br/><i>For just one night</i><br/><i>Then you go back to your life</i><br/><i>And I'll go back to mine</i></p><p>Songfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Life and Mine

**Author's Note:**

> I had the most random SaruMi feels so I busted this out. Most random feelings ever, had to convey them.
> 
> Fic is based on the song Your Life and Mine by JUST SURRENDER, I blame that ancient (more like song from my young teenage years that randomly played on shuffle) song for everything after this point.
> 
> PS. I've never written a SaruMi fic before so I hope I don't completely fail. 
> 
> * * * -marks song lyrics.
> 
> Enjoy. ^^

Saruhiko Fushimi was absolutely awestruck when he was told he could have the night off. It was beyond rare for him, despite the fact that Scepter 4, a lot of the time anyway, sat around in their headquarters and did nothing but wait, if not file some paperwork. Dealing with only supernatural occurrences had it's perks, of that he was sure, but it also left him with a lot of downtime which was something he didn't particularly care for. He liked to keep busy, sitting around doing nothing didn't suit him nor did the monstrous stacks of paper work that usually piled up on his desk. 

So when he had the chance to actually go out on a Saturday night he had been nothing short of relieved, a night spent without his overbearing Captain and his pesky Lieutenant was seen as nothing short of a victory in his book. Escaping from his fellow clansmen was just an added bonus.

The night life of Tokyo wasn't exactly what he found enjoyable and yet he found himself walking down the streets, mind wondering a thousand miles a minute as it usually did as he separated himself from what he was actually doing in that moment. As if his brain detected this it led him down a well known path though he wasn't entirely paying attentions to his surroundings, it was only when he saw a familiar sign illuminated against the dark contrast of the night sky that he froze in his tracks. Out of all the places he could have gone he winded up across the street from a place he used to frequent.

HOMRA.

He absentmindedly clawed at the now gone emblem on his chest, the scars from where he singed the skin itched as if they were only beginning to heal, the pain anchored him to the pavement as his thoughts caught up with his actions. 

HOMRA.

He wasn't sure how he should feel about that place now that it was barren and empty. Granted the building itself had never done him any harm and now that the Third King Mikoto Suoh was dead and gone it was only a shell of it's former self. He wasn't sure if it was actually possible or not but the structure in front of him appeared lifeless, as if it too was mourning the death of the trouble making King and the people who probably stopped going there ages ago. It had been four months after all. 

Fushimi wasn't sure if he was supposed to be aware of the fact that Kusanagi Izumo was away on _business_ in Germany but after overhearing a conversation between Lieutenant Awashima and said man he had done the math and did some digging in the computers database, namely, he hacked into her system and found the emails that disclosed that information. If the Blue King had been aware of it he had paid it no mind. 

****

* * *  
I can see from across the room  
There's a tear in his storied eye  
* * *

What caught his attention the most was the way the closed sign was on the side of the building but as if to dispute that fact the lights were on, _odd._ He thought to himself as he clicked his tongue, growing the slightest bit curious he took a few tentative steps forward so he could have a better view. He didn't know what he had expected to see but the face of a man he hadn't seen in over three months certainly hadn't been it. _Misaki._

He smirked, noting the way that even from a distance he could see the absolutely sullen face of his ex-comrade who was sitting alone in the semi-lit bar, a bottle of something in his hand that caught the light and reflected it back in his direction. With a few more steps he approached the cross walk, his hand reached to rest on his sword but winded up falling flat as he realized he was out of uniform, he rolled his eyes out of sheer annoyance. 

Curiosity got the better of him as he glanced into the window of the bar, hiding himself so he wouldn't be seen though he knew the skateboarder wasn't looking in his direction. After seeing that face for the first time in three months he was itching to fight but Munakata's orders had been severely strict. _”He's not under the protection of a sanctum, you are not to engage him.”_

“How annoying,” he grumbled under his breath as he watched Misaki take a long swig of the vodka that was in his hand, the way he didn't wince hinted that he had been at it for quite awhile. For some reason he continued to observe the other man, almost like he was an animal on display in a zoo and Saruhiko was a more than eager patron, that realization made his stomach churn. “Whatever,” he whispered as he walked by the window, not at all surprised when the skateboarder didn't even notice him. 

It was that fact that halted him in his tracks a block and a half later. 

He didn't want to not be noticed, especially not by the man whose attention was all he craved. Attention meaning something more akin to blind hatred but it just _wasn't fun_ to bully wannabe gangsters who were far from his equal in combat. Not like Misaki had even cut it close but now he was even more _pathetic._ That thought made Saruhiko smile, _he's like a worm being stalked by a bird._ He regretted not having his sword with him. 

****

* * *  
I was leaving but I'm coming back  
Since your heart's in beat with mine  
* * *

“Why am I doing this?” He asked himself as he turned around and stalked back into the direction of the bar, a feeling of utter complacency swept over him as he quickly closed the distance between himself and the structure. Again, he peered inside.

Yata hadn't moved, the only thing that had changed was the fact at least another three inches worth of alcohol was gone from the bottle he was holding on to. The sullen look on his face looked even more sunken in as his eyes drooped, fixated on the vodka that he was yet to consume. As if something swept over Misaki he brought the bottle to his lips and drank, taking down the alcohol in large quantities as the bottle grew less full by the second. Fushimi clicked his tongue.

 _Idiot, you're gonna kill yourself if you drink like that._ He internally preached as he watch a bit of vodka trickle down Yata's chin, he made no indication to wipe it away. He continued drinking in earnest as if his goal was to clear the entire fifth of vodka in one gulp, how he hadn't puked yet was beyond the Blue clansman. _Fucking idiot, stop._

Still, no change.

****

* * *  
Realized I was passing through  
From the moment I saw you  
I was hypnotized  
* * *

Against his better judgment Saruhiko banged his hand on the glass in an attempt to startle the other man into halting his current _goal_ , it wasn't much of a surprise when it worked. Amber eyes scanned the room momentarily before they turned onto the glass, there their eyes met in a particularly awkward gaze. Fushimi cursed under his breath, walking past the door as he headed back towards his clan's headquarters. He didn't want to go back but if it meant getting away from that situation he'd happily take it.

“Wait, Saru!” 

He halted in his tracks, hands balled in fists as he turned his head to look over his shoulder. There, in the doorway of the bar he had once been an active patron of, stood his _nemesis_ , hair down and disheveled, usual garb discarded in favor of a black v-neck and running pants, amber eyes bleary from the large amount of booze the skateboarder had consumed. He fought off the urge to laugh at the sight.

“What did you do that for? Why are you even here?” Came the spaced out call from the brunette, conflicting feelings surfaced in golden color eyes that were attentive and alert to every subtle action of annoyance that was showcased in Saruhiko's being.

“Mi-sa-ki that's none of your business,” he hissed as he turned back around and faced forward, eyes narrowing as he heard faint footsteps come from behind him, on instinct he turned around with a fierce look in his eyes, something the shorter man all but scowled at. 

“I said why did you do that and why are you here,” Yata clarified though his words were slightly slurred together, the alcohol he had basically devoured had begun to eat away at his cognitive functions, their eyes met again.

“Tch Misaki, you're annoying,” he hissed as he pushed up his glasses, finding the whole situation tiresome he regretted his decision to intervene in the first place. “I was just passing by.”

“So why did you hit the glass?” 

“Because you don't drink like that you moron,” Fushimi grunted as he stuffed his left hand in his jacket pocket, Yata seemed less than amused.

“There's no right or wrong way to drink,” the older man pushed as he crossed his arms defensively, it was a poor sight Saruhiko thought. The usual fire in the other man's eyes was dim, he had a feeling that wasn't just the booze talking either.

“Unless you want to die there is,” he responded with a look of pure exasperation, “are you that ignorant, Misaki?”

“Shut it,” the skateboarder scowled as he balled his hands into fists, “you're telling me that you were worried I was going to die if I drank like that?”

“I should have let you continue,” he grumbled in response as he turned around again, “I don't have time to deal with your temper tantrum.”

“Saruhiko, get back here!” Yata huffed as he stalked down the pavement, completely oblivious to the fact it was still cold outside and he was barefoot and without proper clothing. “Answer me, why do you always have to run away from me, huh?”

“Stop following me,” he seethed as he shot the older man a dirty look, “your breath smells disgusting.”

“Kiss my ass, stop changing the subject!”

“Misaki you're no fun like this,” Saruhiko chuckled darkly as he rounded a corner, moments later he shoved the skateboarder into an alley way, the latter didn't fall over only because he slammed against a wall which the Blue found was a bit disappointing. “Now leave me alone.”

Misaki slid down the wall, a look of utter defeat passing over his face before he laughed, a sickly sweet sound that had no business in the midst of their confrontation. Saruhiko turned to leave once again.

“Just go, leave without an explanation, it wouldn't be the first time,” Yata whispered to himself as all the alcohol finally caught up to him, Fushimi paused. _Such an emotional drunk...how annoying._

“Get over it,” he bit back, hands clenching and unclenching into fists as he spared a glance up at the night sky.

“It's not that simple,” Yata chuckled, hands trailing up and down his arms to warm himself at the absence of his usual strong red Aura, the leftover flames only seemed dull and tame.

“Isn't it?” Fushimi sighed as his eyes traveled to various constellations he could easily make out despite the light that radiated from the city.

“No, it's not, but one day it might be.”

“Whatever,” Saruhiko grumbled as he returned his gaze forward, willing himself to move from the spot but finding himself unable to convince his body to listen. He cursed under his breath.

“Eh, Saru?”

“What?” He spat out, sparing a glance back at the man he had once called his best friend, the latter only looked at him with utter disdain. 

“You're off tonight, aren't you?”

“What's it to you?” He questioned as he clicked his tongue, annoyance was a severe understatement at this point- he felt ready to absolutely lose it.

“Come drink with me,” Yata proposed as he bit his lips, his eyes fell downward to his hands. “No one's at the bar, no one's been there for awhile but me. You could drink whatever you wanted, even the expensive stuff, Kusanagi-san would have no room to complain about it being missing.”

“Why on earth would I want to do that on my night off?” He sneered as he crossed his arms, leaning on the side of a building so he could keep eye contact with the cause of his botheration that particular evening. 

“Because...” Misaki paused as if he was remembering something, “yeah, I don't have anything to say about that. I’m just asking if you will, you don't have to say yes.”

“Then no,” Fushimi gritted his teeth as he pulled at his coat, a rush of cool air swept around them and he found it odd, only for a moment, that Yata shivered.

“I see,” the skateboarder grumbled as he pulled himself off the ground, legs shaking so heavily that he nearly collapsed again, his method of standing heavily relied on the wall after that. “See you later then, Saru.”

Fushimi watched him stumble a few feet forwards, one arm wrapped around himself as if it was enough to keep out the chill while the other gripped onto the brick as if it would truly support his weight while he walked back to the bar. When the brunette rounded the corner Fushimi loitered at he thought it was a miracle the older man didn't fall into the street. People passed by him as if it was nothing, seeing someone drunkenly stumbling along the pavement with no clothes or shoes on and for some reason he felt rage pit in his stomach at the sight. 

_But I guess I'm being one of those people, too._

****

* * *  
Couldn't wait to get you alone  
So I could walk with you  
So I could talk with you  
* * *

Reluctantly he followed after him, catching up to the Red clansman with ease he fell into step beside him, slinging an arm around the younger man's waist with a look that bordered on pure distress.

“Saru?”

“Just shut up,” Fushimi grunted as he all but dragged the smaller man back to the bar, once inside he felt his breath hitch in his chest as he noticed how not much had changed despite how long it had been since he had been there. It certainly felt less...lively. He continued to haul Misaki across the room until he could sit him down at the bar, once the skateboarder secured himself in his chair he pivoted around, eyes fixated on the door as he plotted to make a quick escape. The hand that grabbed his arm let him know that things weren't going to be quite that simple.

“Stay, have a drink at least,” Yata offered as he reached across the wooden counter and plucked a glass off of a small stack, he laid it on the wooden surface as he relinquished his grip on Saruhiko's arm.

“I don't want a drink.”

“Please,” the older man all but pleaded, his voice was laced heavily with the affects of the vodka that still sat on the counter, well over half empty. 

“Tch Misaki, if I have one drink will that shut you up?” He groaned as he flung himself down in the chair next to his ex-comrade who merely nodded his head. 

“You want anything in particular?” Misaki asked as he eyed the shelf in front of them with bleary eyes, each bottle on the structure looked the same to him.

“I'll get it,” Fushimi groaned as he pulled himself from the chair he had just sat in, as he paraded around the bar his eyes met those of amber once again, “you're useless.”

“Right now I am.”

“How annoying,” the Blue responded as he pulled a bottle of expensive tequila from the shelf, he ripped the wrapping off it before pouring a large amount into his glass. He sat the bottle on the counter after that, grabbing his drink in favor of it. He downed it with the utmost of ease, though he had never been a big drinker he didn't find alcohol to be as bothersome as most appeared to. “Can I go now?”

“If you want,” Misaki mumbled as he reached for the bottle he had been nursing earlier in the night, something that made Fushimi slap his hand away as if on cue.

“You don't need to drink anymore.”

“Yeah but I’m gonna,” Yata countered as he tried to move his hand from under the Blue's, though the movement was futile.

“No, you're not.”

“Yeah, I am.” The skateboarder dared as he raised an eyebrow, “the moment you walk out the door I'm drinking it, that tequila too.”

“You're such an idiot,” he hissed in response, “is this your tactic at trying to get me to stay?”

“No that was my plan, if you stay you might be able to stop me but I don't see why that's important to you.”

“It's not,” Fushimi mumbled as he moved his hand, watching as the Red clansman snatched the bottle off the table and brought it to his lips again. Three seconds into the chugging he slammed his hand down on the bar, “enough. Stop making such idiotic decisions.”

“It's not idiotic,” Yata slurred as he sat the glass container down, “I don't want to feel shit tonight.”

“You might not feel _shit_ ever again if you keep it up,” he replied with a click of his tongue, “don't tell me you're suicidal.”

“Fuck no, I’m just tired of this,” Misaki responded as his gaze shifted around the barroom. “I want to drink so much that I can't remember why I started in the first place, what's wrong with that?”

“You're underage.”

“So are you.”

“You're just running from your problems.”

“Like you're not an expert at that.”

“Tch,” Saruhiko glared down at the floor, “if I stay for a bit will you stop?”

“Maybe, I can't make any promises.”

“Figures,” he commented as he pushed the tequila a bit closer to where he was sitting before he went back around to his chair, once comfortable he began taking shot after shot, trying to get on a level similar to that of the man that sat next to him so maybe it would dull the annoyance he felt about being in the situation. He wanted to leave but some tiny part of himself wouldn't let him leave someone to die, despite how much he wanted not to care.

****

* * *  
This party's going south  
Let me know what's going on with us  
* * *

“Can we talk?” Yata asked as he laced his hands together, staring off into the distance as he averted his gaze from the bottles on the shelf. Fushimi froze.

“About what?”

“I don't know, I just don't wanna sit here and not say anything,” the older man paused, “let's play twenty questions.”

“I'm not drunk enough for that yet,” Fushimi added as he poured himself another drink, the affects began to eat away at him the longer he stared at the now full glass. 

“Then keep drinking and we can ask more important stuff as time goes on,” Misaki suggested as he wiped at his eyes. Saruhiko studied him for a moment before noticing there was a bit of residual liquid on his skin, for some reason his blood boiled at the sight.

“Fine.”

“What's your favorite thing about working with Scepter 4?” Yata asked as he looked up at the ceiling, staring at the exposed wires and fixtures that hung from the rafters.

“The organization,” Fushimi answered quickly as he downed the shot he had poured, “what's your favorite part of HOMRA being done for?”

Yata was silent for a moment as a look of hurt flashed on his face, beside him the other man tensed. “No one is in danger anymore...those of us still alive that is.”

“I see,” he answered as he pushed his glasses up, coughing awkwardly as he hid his regret at asking that question.

“Do you hate me?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” Misaki countered with a small frown though his gaze had still not turned away from the ceiling, Fushimi rolled his eyes.

“That's another question,” he reminded him as he stared down at the empty glass in his hands, his vision swayed as his level of intoxication increased. “Do you hate me?”

“Kinda, kinda not, I guess.”

“Why kinda?” He inquired out of shock as he spared a glance at his companion, _you're not allowed not to hate me, why would you say that?_

“That's another question, remember?” Misaki teased with a sad smile as he let his eyes slip close, “do you really hate me? As in real hate?”

“Tch Misaki,” Fushimi groaned, taking his glasses off as he rubbed at his eyes as if it would shake the awkwardness of the question away. The alcohol refused to let him bite back with his usual force. “I don't know.”

“That's not a real answer,” Yata remarked as he finally locked eyes with his ex-comrade.

“I know, but I don't know what else to say. I can't put it into words.” _I hate you, but I don't hate the old you,_ his mind wanted to say but the alcohol put a cage around that thought, preventing it from slipping out. “Why don't you hate me?” 

“I do, but I don't. I hate you for what you did but a part of me still looks at you like _hey, that's Saruhiko, your best friend._ If that makes any sense,” Misaki whispered as he traced circles in the wood, “I really hate how you talk to me and purposely taunt me but I’ve gotten a bit used to it, I think you only do it to get a reaction. It's like you want me to hate you.”

 _How the fuck would you know that's what I wanted?_ Fushimi thought in a panic as his mind went into overdrive, _you're not allowed to know that._

“I don't think you hate me but for some reason you want too so you want me to do the same. You've kinda become what you hated, ya know?” 

“What do you mean?” Saruhiko asked with a scowl, eyes narrowing as amber orbs pried into his mind as if he was transparent in that moment.

“I don't know, why do you want to torment me? Is it because it makes you feel better about your own past or something? Look Saru, I don't...I don't like you or anything but you were someone important to me once I think I deserve to hear this.” Misaki looked disheartened when all the Blue did was laugh.

“I torment you because it's fun to watch you squirm, not because it makes up for my past.” The younger man poured himself another shot and consumed it instantly, “why does...why does it bother you so much that I’m not here anymore?”

Misaki all but gawked at him.

“Because I lost my best friend when you left.”

****

* * *  
Cause it's all right  
There's nothing to stop us  
* * *

“But you didn't even pay me any mind when I was here in front of you,” Saruhiko pointed out with a bland look, “it was always _Mikoto-san_ this and _Mikoto-san_ that, now that he's dead you want to spend your time with me again? Is that it?” Fushimi slammed the glass in his hand down on the bar, rage filling his being when the skateboarder seethed at him.

“Stop talking about Mikoto-san as if he's here to defend himself he-”

“Even in the past you'd defend his name, why not just do it now? Suoh Mikoto never reacted whenever I said something about him, only you did.” Fushimi grunted as he leaned back even further in his chair, “he's dead, whatever I say isn't going to change that.”

“You're such an asshole, if I wasn't drunk off my ass I'd kill you.”

“I'm sure you'd at least try but I don't fight people who aren't worth the energy,” Saruhiko smirked as placed his glasses back on his face, beside him Yata grabbed the vodka bottle again. This time he didn't stop him from drinking. The skateboarder grimaced after a few seconds of chugging, slamming the bottle back down on the bar so hard it was a miracle it didn't splinter, the silence that befell on them afterward was deafening. “Even when it's a conversation you still chose to talk about Suoh Mikoto over me.”

“Huh?” Misaki whined as he clutched his stomach, as if he was finally feeling ill due to his reckless actions. He clicked his tongue in response to that.

“When I said you always chose Mikoto-san over me you didn't even acknowledge that, you just defended him and ignored me, again.” 

“Did you not feel grateful to him at all?” 

Saruhiko bit his lip as he pondered that question.

“Perhaps to a degree but he was a frightening beast and I couldn't be awestruck by someone like that,” he answered carefully, cursing under his breath as the alcohol swayed his vision, still he grabbed the tequila and took a long sip from the bottle.

“You were afraid of him because you saw him as a beast?” Yata's eyes grew wide as he stared at his companion's unchanging face.

“Yeah, I hate Kings,” Fushimi laughed solemnly as he took another drink of the liquor, _and he still refuses to acknowledge me. This is why I want your hatred Misaki, if I can't have your attention I want your hatred._

“I need a cigarette,” Yata randomly proclaimed as he hopped off his chair, awkwardly waddling behind the bar as he grabbed a pack that Fushimi assumed was once Mikoto's or Kusanagi's, he watched the younger man place one between his lips and light it was a leftover lighter, the cough that resulted afterward made him smirk. 

“You don't smoke,” he announced as he watched the skateboarder pull a face as he continued to inhale the tobacco, the smoke hung thickly in the air.

“I don't but I need something to take the rest of this edge off,” the older man announced as he finally seemed to get the hang of it, no longer wheezing after every single drawl. He offered the pack to Saruhiko, “want one?”

“Why the hell not,” he grumbled under his breath as he took the offered object, plucking one out the container as he reached for the lighter, when he brought it to his lips to ignite it the lighter refused to spark. 

“Here,” Yata waved as he leaned across the bar, their faces coming within a foot apart as he pressed the end of his cigarette to the unlit side of Fushimi's, with one simple inhale the paper sparked and smoke filled his lungs. He didn't so much as cough. 

****

* * *  
If it feels right  
Then everything's fine  
* * *

“Saruhiko?”

“What?” He groaned in response, words muffled by the cigarette that hung idly from the corner of his mouth, the smoke filled his lungs and made his head grow foggy. 

“Did you really think I didn't want to be around you anymore?” 

The question was innocent in itself but because of that it made the Blue's blood boil, _simple minded as ever,_ he noted when he locked eyes with Misaki who was yet to fully retreat away from him, still leaned over the bar within arms length away from him. Their eyes locked.

“You didn't,” he commented as a memories swept over him as if the flood gates in his mind had given way to the oncoming onslaught of forced realizations he was about to be subjected to, he shivered weakly as the air kicked on.

“That's not what it was like,” Misaki swore as he rested the rest of his weight against the bar top, “I just paid attention to other people too, it's not like I didn't want you there.”

“You sure acted like it,” Fushimi grunted as he plucked the cigarette from his mouth and grabbed the bottle of vodka the other had been working on, he sipped from it quietly as he watched the older man's face fall.

“So...I guess when it was just you and I, I looked at you like you were a God because that's how you appeared to me at the time.” Saruhiko felt his eyes widen so he averted his gaze down to the floor, “but when we met Mikoto-san he was stronger than any God I could have ever imagined so I got swept up in that. I was grateful because he saved me, someone like me of all people, and I thought you'd let him save you too. But you didn't.”

“I didn't need saving,” Fushimi hissed as his vision blurred in the corners of his eyes, _damn alcohol_. “I didn't need a King when I was one of my own little world.”

“But that wasn't reality,” Misaki bit his lip as he watched the other man's face continue to fall, despite how hard he had tried to hide it. 

“It could have been our reality, isn't life only what you make it, Misaki? If that's the case why couldn't our little world be possible? It was something we created,” _it was something I thought we cherished_ remained unsaid but it hung on the tip of his tongue. “I used to lock the door on our shitty apartment because I felt that if any part of our lives went missing that it would be the greatest loss, even if it was something insignificant in the grand scheme of things. I could keep our world safe from harm that way but I couldn't fight a raging inferno.”

“You know Mikoto-san didn't hate you, right?”

He shook his head at that question, a small laugh trapped in his throat in the process. 

“I don't care if he did or not.”

“That raging beast would have gone to bat for you, despite what you think.” Misaki paused, “but he's not what we should be talking about right now.”

“So you finally realized that, huh?” Saruhiko tapped his nails against the bar, a bored look falling back over his features. “You're so dense, Misaki.”

“Stop calling me that,” the latter groaned as he placed his arms on the bar as if bracing himself, “you're right...to a degree...I did avert my attention from you to Mikoto-san and that was unfair to you.”

“Did you just now realize that?” Fushimi practically gawked, “you're not even dense, you're an i-”

“Idiot, yeah I know I can be.” That was something he wasn't expecting to hear, he cursed the way the alcohol curbed their usual fighting spirit. “I never meant for that to happen, I hope you know that...which I’m sure you do and I’m sure that doesn't change the fact that I let that happen. I just didn't expect to lose my best friend as a result.”

“When did you get so mature?” Saruhiko frowned, hating the way there was no fire in Misaki's words but a small part of him craved that sort of attention, the part he was getting in that moment.

“Why didn't you talk to me? Why did you just leave? I lost my best friend, Saruhiko. _That's fucking painful._ ” Yata stared him down, eyes narrowed but bordering on sadness as the amber color shook uncontrollably.

“What do you think I lost, you idiot?” Fushimi spat back, nerves and hatred finally slipping into his drunken mind, “I lost my best friend, too.”

As if he hadn't been expecting to hear that Yata's already widened eyes grew even wider, shock flashing in them before something more akin to regret clouded over them. “Saru....”

“You're not the only one who lost something that day so stop acting like a spoiled brat,” he growled, crossing his arms as he stubbed the hardly smoked cigarette in his hand out in the ash tray. Yata's was already long since burned out in his hand.

“Do you miss me at all?” Yata whispered as he tossed the rolled tobacco into the same ashtray, his eyes lowered, refusing to look up once again. The Blue let out a rugged breath.

* * *  
For just one night  
* * *

“Do you miss me, Misaki?”

“Fuck...I mean...sometimes I do, yeah...especially now that I'm alone...” Yata smiled sadly, eyes clouding over as he reached for the vodka, “sometimes I really miss our apartment and our small world we created. I can't help but feel like I’m the reason you don't smile anymore too, I miss seeing that though. I don't hate you as much as you think I do, Saruhiko.”

“Yata just stop,” Fushimi insisted as he met his once best friend's gaze, the latter shook his head.

“No, I have something I wanna tell you first,” Misaki insisted, his gaze leaving little to no room for argument. “I'm sorry, and I forgive you.”

Shock hit him like a bullet train, he hadn't expected for those words to meet his ears at any point in time, he never wanted to hear those words spoken aloud. It would only make things complicated, they were enemies now, they couldn't be like they used too. _But he doesn't have a King anymore, technically you could,_ a part of his brain screamed at him but he shook his head to clear it of the thought. 

“For tonight I'll forgive you too,” he mumbled under his breath, goose bumps raised on his skin as the others intent stare did not falter.

“For tonight?”

“Yeah,” Fushimi answered with a click of his tongue, “then tomorrow we go back to how we were.”

* * *  
Then you go back to your life  
* * *

“But what if I don't want that?” Misaki whispered as he moved from behind the bar, plopping down in the seat next to the Blue clansman as he drunkenly swayed back and forth.

“What do you want, Misaki?” Saruhiko questioned as he turned to look at his companion, noting the way his eyes drooped at the question as if it hurt him that they weren't already on the same wave length.

“I want us to be friends again but I know that things are never going to be quite that simple, things would be even more complicated if...Mikoto-san was still alive. But as you said...he's gone, I’m not a clansman anymore I’m just a remnant, surely that makes things a helluva lot easier.” Fushimi hated how mature the skateboarder sounded in that moment, his personality was no longer reckless nor brash but...hardened. As if the things he had seen and been through had crushed some part of his soul that allowed him to fight and allowed him to _hate_. He couldn't help but curse the Red King for causing Yata's fire to burn out.

“Saru?”

“Yeah?”

“I wanna sit on the couch,” Misaki called out as he lazily turned and looked at the black sofa, “will you sit with me?”

“You're so bothersome,” Saruhiko cursed as he stood on shaky legs, the alcohol caused him to sway slightly as he let the skateboarder throw an arm around his shoulders as they made their way to the couch. Misaki dropped the bottle of vodka he had been carrying on the table before throwing himself down on the black leather, something he could only shake his head at. “Move,” he commanded as he swatted at his legs, not even he could fight the chuckle that rose past his lips when the younger man rolled as if to move out of the way and wound up falling on the floor with a small “ow.”

“Get up,” Fushimi chuckled as he reached down and grabbed his arm, dragging the giggling boy up halfway though the latter refused to stand, their eyes met in between laughs. “You're such an idiot.”

“Help me Saru,” Yata cackled as he flung backwards on the floor, nearly taking the taller man down with him. “I'm too drunk to stand.”

“I can see that,” the man with glass remarked as he leaned down and wrapped his arms around the smaller man's torso, “grab my neck.”

“O-okay,” Misaki stuttered as he wrapped his arms around his neck with a deep blush, something the Blue could only shake his head at. With ease, despite how intoxicated they both were, Fushimi managed to pull the other man onto the couch before he collapsed next to him, the whole situation had been way too exhausting for two people who were beyond the normal state of drunkenness people tried to achieve. He swore he'd have the worst hangover in the morning but that seemed insignificant.

“Saru is so strong,” Yata proclaimed as he curled up on the couch, a happy smile pulling on his lips, it quickly turned into a frown. “Or maybe I'm just weak.”

“Maybe you're just really drunk,” Saruhiko suggested with a dismissive wave, adjusting his glasses in the process, beside him Yata let out a _hmph_.

“Yeah...” he reasoned as he pushed himself up on his elbows, “Saru, do you wanna play a video game?”

“Has your attention span really gotten this short?” The Blue clansman scoffed as he made himself comfortable on the couch, “we just sat down.”

“But I miss playing games with you,” Misaki whined as he threw a hand over his eyes, “I'm an emotional wreck and I want your undivided attention for the night, is that a lot to ask?”

“I think I'm the one who deserves your undivided attention,” Fushimi countered with a raised eyebrow as he crossed his arms, “you're the one who pushed me out.”

“You're the one who left.”

“You're the one who acted like I wasn't there to begin with.”

“You never wanted to be around the others.”

“Because I didn't want the others attention, I wanted yours.” 

“Saru?”

“What?”

“Just because I showed other people attention didn't mean that you were any less important to me, to me you were very important, you were irreplaceable.” Misaki laughed awkwardly, “I missed this.”

“Missed what exactly?” Saruhiko instantly regretted asking that question but didn't have the power to take it back.

“You, I missed you. I said I forgive you, I mean for everything. Leaving, taunting me, all of it. I'm in no position to be holding anything over your head, I have nothing left, I want a part of myself back...I might lose it if I don't have...something.” 

“Misaki...”

“Let me talk, just listen, okay?” He spat out, sitting up in his seat as he crossed his arms to mimic the man next to him.

“I was listening.”

“Good,” Yata let out a rugged breath. “I'm going crazy in here, all alone without anything to do or no one to talk too. I've been working a bit but that doesn't feel the same as what I’m used too...because it's not. No one wants to come here anymore, no one wants to see each other or talk about it either, I can't say I blame them but they all have people they could go back too. Their real families, their old friends...fuck Saru, I don't have anyone.”

“Misaki...”

“I'm so fucking lonely. You were the only family I had when it was just the two of us against the world, now that the other people who entered my life are gone I’m all by myself because you're not there for me to fall back on. Does this hurt you, Saruhiko? Do you feel some sort of sadness too?”

The first question bounced around in his mind. 

_Does this hurt you, Saruhiko?_

“Idiot,” he grumbled under his breath, averting his eyes to his hands, “of course it hurts me. Do you think I'm happy? Do you think I don't wish we could have done things differently? I tried not to care when we were here at HOMRA and you made that easy for me, when I left it fucking hurt but it had to be done. When Mikoto-san died I tried not to care but it wounded me too, you, sitting there with that look on your face...it fucking hurts, Misaki. If Munakata died I would have no where to go either, I can't even imagine that.”

“Saruhiko?” 

“Just shut up,” Fushimi grumbled as he reached out and looped his hand around the collar of the black v-neck the other man wore, he pulled him closer. “Just stop, this isn't what I came here for.”

“What did you come here for then?” Misaki asked, tears brimming on the corner of his eyes as their faces subconsciously drew even closer.

“I don't know, my legs just carried me here.” Fushimi answered honestly, biting his lip as his consciousness clouded over with the affects of the alcohol. He swore he'd never drink this much again. “This is just for tonight, right?”

“Yeah, just for tonight,” the older man agreed as their gaze grew heated.

“For tonight,” Saruhiko repeated as he leaned in even closer, taking note of how sickly sweet the alcohol smelled on the other man's breath, “then for tonight I'm sorry, Misaki.” He didn't know where those words came from or where the urge to close the distance between them crawled up from but he caved into both. Misaki's lips were slightly chapped but also soft against his, whatever initial shock had fallen over them both slipped away the moment Fushimi pressed his tongue past the smaller man's lips. To his surprise, Yata relented control and allowed him to take the lead.

 _Such a virgin,_ he mused as he reached out and cupped the older man's chin, drawing their faces closer as their tongues slid against each other in a heated yet seemingly passionate way. Yata tasted of vodka and cigarettes but there was something else there he couldn't put his finger on it, he just accepted it, not realizing how addicting that taste became as they reluctantly parted for breath. Misaki stared at him, utterly dumfounded.

“Took you long enough,” the skateboarder mumbled as his cheeks dusted a heavy crimson color, “are you that ignorant, Saru?”

Oddly enough, he couldn't help but laugh at that statement, though he chose to overlook it.

“You still wanna go play video games?” 

Yata's blush intensified.

“I've got something else in mind.”

* * *  
And I'll go back to mine  
* * *

0o0o0o

The first thing Saruhiko noticed upon waking up was that he felt like he was suffocating, that and his head felt as if it was ready fall off his shoulders. The pain and lack of oxygen was more annoying than anything else he could imagine waking up too. Groaning, he tried to flip over only to come short as his body brushed against another persons, his eyes snapped open on reflex. _Correction, that's the most annoying thing to wake up too._ He thought as he watched drool threaten to spill over Yata's mouth, the rest of his body was sprawled out lazily atop of his own, his head resting on the Blue clansman's chest. In bits and pieces last night came back to him.

The bar. Drinking. Stupid confessions. The kiss. And what they winded up doing instead of playing video games...he shivered at the thought. _I hope he doesn't get clingy now that I took that part of him for myself,_ he dared to think as he slowly dumped the other man off of him, he didn't so much as stir. The light that filtered into the bedroom that used to belong to the Red King was painful to look at, even the artificial light of his cell phone made him squint his eyes, he clicked his tongue when he checked the time.

**10:03 A.M**

**15 NEW Text Messages**

**7 Missed Calls from Seri Awashima**

“Fuck,” he cursed as he hurriedly pulled himself off of the mattress after slipping on his glasses, his eyes began frantically surveying the room as he search for his clothes. Remembering another odd detail of the previous night he went to the hallway and found a trail of them, something he rolled his eyes at. After collecting all articles of clothing and slipping them on he was nice enough to collect Yata's and find his shoes that had been kicked off with reckless abandon.

He sat the clothes on top of the mini fridge in the corner of the former Red King's room and pulled his keys and phone off of the nightstand before he shoved them in his pocket. After slipping his shoes on and fixing his hair he glanced around the room, eyes landing on the younger man that snored softly as he still refused to awaken. He bit his lip awkwardly. 

“Oi, Misaki,” he caved in, despite their circumstances being different now that the night had given way to day he found it too rude, even for him, to leave without saying something. When said man didn't stir he somewhat roughly slapped him on the arm, earning an immediate groan of protest as the older man's eyes pried open.

“Saru?” 

“I have to go, I’m late for work,” he commented awkwardly as he shifted his weight back and forth, Yata blinked up at him out of confusion.

“Sit,” the brunette insisted as he patted the spot next to him, Fushimi''s eyes narrowed.

“Misaki...”

“Oh, right...” said man blushed as he remembered their agreement from the night prior, his eyes told a sad sorry story as he averted his gaze.

“It's fine,” Saruhiko announced as he uncharacteristically gave in to the command, though when his phone rang again it ruined any moment they would have had and sent him crashing back into reality. Instead of saying anything further he leaned forward and placed a kiss on Misaki's cheek before he turned to leave, answering his phone on the way out to block any further word of protest.

“Fushimi.”

0o0o0o

“Fushimi-kun, you have mail,” an all too cheery Munakata exclaimed as he approached said man that sat at his desk with an exasperated expression. “Cheer up, today is your last day of punishment.”

“Two weeks of desk work for oversleeping is cruel and unusual punishment,” he answered with a click of his tongue as he held his hand out for the mail, frowning slightly when he noticed their was no return address or actual address on the paper. All it read was _Fushimi Saruhiko_ in less than elegant writing. “That's weird,” he commented as he flipped it over, hands prying up the seal as his boss turned and left in favor of doing _god knows what._ After he freed the paper from the envelope he unfolded it, first ignoring another small piece of paper that fell out as a result. His eyes widened as he skimmed over the note.

* * *  
Here I am just writing you a letter from the distance past  
* * *

**  
**  
__  
**Hey Saru...I know we agreed to never talk about that night but I wanted to say thank you...it meant the world to me that you came in that night. What happened afterward was something beyond what I could have ever dreamed of. I’m not trying to be sappy though, I just wanted to say thank you. It was one of the best nights of my life and I’ll never forget it. Not even when I’m kicking your ass around Tokyo.**  
  


**_If you ever see me drinking alone in the bar come inside and forget for awhile, if you see me out and about then expect an ass whopping. I won't take it easy on you, ya know?_ **

**_Anyway, here's a reminder of that night. Apparently we took some photos with one of Tatara's old Polaroid cameras so...here. Toss it if you want but I thought maybe you'd like to have it, just to remind you that even after everything maybe there is hope for the future. If not that, well here's a reminder of a good time we had._ **

**_See ya later...Saruhiko._ **

* * *  
Enclosed is a photograph  
To remind you of the times we had  
* * * 

He reached down after he set the letter on his desk, his hand grazing the glassy looking paper as he plucked it off the floor. When it was safely in his hands he studied it. They were smiling like absolute drunken idiots as they laid in bed, chests bare but halfway covered by the sheets, he couldn't help but think they looked _happy_ in that moment. No matter if it was _fake_ or not. When he sat the photo face down on his desk he noticed there was a small sticky note stuck to it, one with a simple sentence on the back that held a lot more meaning than it would've to anyone else who saw it.

**I'm glad it was you.**

Fushimi folded the items back up and put them in the envelope before sticking it into the inside pocket of his jacket. As his eyes raked over the large stack of paperwork he had strewn about his desk he outwardly groaned, head hitting the desk with enough force to rattle it as he stared down at his lap. The letter burned a hole in his pocket.

 _Just for tonight, eh?_ He thought to himself as he closed his eyes, a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips, _then why do I feel so..._

“Fushimi! Get back to work!” Came the agitated call from his Lieutenant, severing any further thoughts he could string together he lifted his head and grabbed a stack of papers so he could pretend like he was working while the blond woman left the room. As soon as she was gone the smile returned to his lips, he glanced out the window before he closed his eyes.

_...Misaki...thank you._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. (:


End file.
